Sunday, June 17, 2012

still-sound 76. Forty

This is a large porcelain bowl I made in the style of Lucie Rie.  I once read that if a potter wishes to make pots in a particular style, he must become the potter who makes those pots in that particular style.  I'd like to  make pots in the style of Lucie Rie.  I suppose I need to become Lucie Rie.

I gave this bowl to my friend Franco for his fortieth birthday.  I celebrated my fortieth birthday last month.  Franco and Adam took me out to lunch at Son of a Gun on 3rd Street to celebrate.  The food was even better than I expected.  The salad with smoked trout surpassed my expectations and I've been trying to recreate the dish at home - in the same way I try to copy Lucie Rie.  In neither case have I achieved the effortless perfection of the originals.  I drank a whisky cocktail called Penicillin with the decadent meal.  No one told me that the restaurant was decorated in a nautical theme.  Not like Seafood Shanty - more subtle.  There was a beautiful clipper ship drawn in gold on the front door.

When Franco turned 40 I told him, as someone who has been that age for a month, that it was fine.  It feels like 39.  It feels like 28.  I really don't feel any differently.  When I was a much younger man, I considered forty to be quite old.  I don't feel old though. 

My friend Laura gave me this beautiful glass vase as a birthday gift.  It looks like a floating test tube.  I placed a peony in it - these feathery flowers abound in June.  She also gave me a pack of Hojicha tea.  She bought the tea at Tortoise General Store in Venice.

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